The Other Descendants
by pixie blue
Summary: A Dark Past sequel. If Aerrow is the LAST descendant of Lightning Strike, does that mean there were others? What about the rest of the original Storm Hawks? Does Aerrow have a family he never knew of? The answers are closer than you'd think. Slight AxP.
1. Prologue: Broken Spirits

For those who haven't read A Dark Past yet, I suggest you read that first. This will make a lot more sense if you do.

And to those that have, I'm sorry, I know I said I would post this yesterday, but I was at my grandma's house and her internet had run out. Sorry.

pixie out.

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Weeks had passed since what had happened on that isolated terra. Neither party had told anyone what had happened. In fact, neither of them even bothered fighting each other anymore. Without the Dark Ace's elite forces preying on unwary squadrons or terras, the Sky Knights had taken back most of the Cyclonian-controlled terras with ease.

The rest of the Storm Hawks were concerned about Aerrow's apparent lack of interest in fighting Cyclonia, and Cyclonis was furious that the Dark Ace refused to go on any missions. She had punished him, severely, but still he would not budge. Instead, he roamed restlessly around the castle, nobody knowing what he was looking for, and most suspecting he didn't either.

It was strange, for both of them. Aerrow felt that he couldn't fight the Dark Ace anymore, even though he hated him more than ever. Now that he knew Dark Ace's story, he seemed more like a person and less like an enemy. The Dark Ace felt he was in some sort of debt to the young Sky Knight. Aerrow was the only one who had ever known his full story – he had never even told Master Cyclonis, and his old team mates, the only others who would have known, were long dead.

Both sides had tried everything to get their best warriors into action. The Cyclonians were more on the side of punishment, but anything they did seemed ineffective. The Storm Hawks had little luck in their endeavours to coerce Aerrow back into his Sky Knight duties. Though neither side could really get their greatest fighters back on track, the Storm Hawks at least seemed to be faring a bit better – they had at least managed to get Aerrow working on some strategies for taking over Cyclonia, a battle to end all battles once again. It was a start, at least. In fact, he seemed to be putting everything he had into the planning, and wouldn't let anything distract him – not even sleep or food (though what Junko offered him would be appetising to few). And that is where we are now...

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A/N: A little short (350 words), I know, but it's just the prologue, it's supposed to be short. And anyway, that doesn't matter, what matters is what YOU think. That's right, you sitting in front of your computer screen. Or mobile screen, if you have the mobile version. Regardless of which, review. Please.

-pixie.


	2. Imperfection

A/N: Welcome to the official start to Histories Part 2! Hope you enjoy!

Oh, and before I forget, I would like to thank maniax for their review. Unfortunately, they weren't logged in and I couldn't thank them personally. And also thanks to Pascy, 21, WishfulTrance and Amber Pegasus for their lovely reviews. I'm overwhelmed that I got 5 reviews just for the prologue. Love you all.

-pixie.

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Hunched furtively over the table, Aerrow scribbled a few more notes into his battle strategy log. The long days had taken a toll – he couldn't even remember the last time he had slept well, with the dark bags under his eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks betraying his state.

Meticulously constructing an elaborate drawing of a tactical assault, he stuck his tongue out in concentration and constantly referred to the map of the known Atmos embedded in the table. Little red pin-flags dotted the entire surface of his workspace. The picture was almost perfect – he had never paid this much attention to a diagram's more intricate details before. His concentration wandered as he began to doodle idly, drawing miniaturised skimmers with even tinier Sky Knights astride them. With great suddenness, sprung out of nowhere, he angrily crossed out the drawing, the lead tip snapping from the pressure_. It wasn't good enough_.In his sudden fit he tossed the pencil into the bin along with its other broken companions. He gave a frustrated sigh and burrowed his head in his hands, heedless of the pin-flags still clutched in his fists.

Quiet footsteps echoed in the bridge. "Aerrow, you really should get some rest. You've been at this for days! We were only trying to get you over whatever happened on that terra, because you were just moping around and not helping the squad–"

"So?" he snapped irritably, gesturing to the swamp of red flags and battle notes strewn across the table. "I'm helping you now."

She stomped her foot, exasperated with her uncooperative leader. "That's not what I meant! When's the last time you ate, or slept, or even–" she held her nose at this point,"–had a shower?" She poked him in the ribs. "You're wasting away, Aerrow."

He sighed, dropping the pin-flags and turning haunted eyes to Piper. "With good reason," he whispered, and poured out the entire story. He felt bad while he was doing it, as if he had somehow betrayed the Dark Ace. He tried reasoning with himself – after all, he had never promised he wouldn't tell anyone, and this _was_ the man that was responsible for the death of his parents. Piper took it surprisingly well, not even interrupting once – though he could see the millions of questions that raced through her mind. When he had finally finished talking, he felt as if a weight the size of the Atmos had fallen off his shoulders, but her questions would have to wait. They had somehow made their way onto the couch during the conversation, and, once finished with his tale, Aerrow realised how comfortable the cushions really were and promptly fell asleep.


	3. Redemption

A/N: As always, a big thank you to all my reviewers. I really am overwhelmed by the responses I'm getting. I would also like to take this opportunity to especially thank Pascy for their wonderfully touching review. It made my day, it really did. Seriously, I was blushing at your praise. This one's for you.

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"Dark Ace, I've been fairly lenient so far in your punishments, but you are very close to receiving much worse. I send you on a simple recon, and you come back without a report and then proceed to sulk around the palace like a mourner! What happened on that mission?"

He was in bad shape. Cuts, bruises and burns showed everywhere that his now tattered uniform didn't cover. He laughed, even though his abrasions stung with dirt and every nerve screamed in pain. The unsettling thing was that he knew that Cyclonis _was_ being lenient; he was lucky he still had all his limbs and digits attached, and that no bones were broken.

She blasted him again, his limbs twitching erratically, like a puppet with tangled strings. Laughter still echoed through his screams. Unnerved, Cyclonis cut off the flow of crystal energy. The Dark Ace slumped in relief, still giggling quietly in sporadic bursts. She wondered if he had gone insane from the torture - it would be a shame if he had. Not only would he be useless for information, she had thought that he would be stronger than that.

The Dark Ace coughed, feebly pushing himself up against the wall. His mouth twisted into a grotesque parody of his usual snarky grin. "That... Sky Knight boy was there..."

She lunged at him, grabbing the ragged remains of his shirt and shaking him. "What did he do?" she hissed.

He smiled placidly at her, coughing a few times more. "He didn't do anything. I almost killed him, actually. I had him cornered, and then," his mouth twisted in parody again, "I dropped my blade and told him everything."

Numbly, she released her grip on his shirt. Had her most trusted commander... _betrayed_ her? "Which everything?" The words seemed to stick in her throat on the way out.

"How I came to be Cyclonian. Why I killed my teammates." He slowly returned to himself. "Stupid brat has probably told all his friends. I'll be the laughing stock of Atmos." Cyclonis was slightly bemused that he still worried about his pride at a time like this, but also felt a different kind of betrayal. How could he tell his worst enemy the reason he had left for Cyclonia, but every time that she asked, he would clam up? She would bet her place as Master that he would not tell her now if she asked again.

He cleared his throat, standing shakily. His eyes had lost the edge of madness, and he seemed more like himself than he had since the mission. Putting his fist over his heart and bowing, he bid his Master a formal farewell. "Thank you, Master, for blasting some sense back into me. I will go get my wounds attended to, and get some rest. And after that, I will hunt down the boy." He bowed again, limping slightly as he headed to his quarters, leaving Cyclonis standing alone in the blackened corner of the throne room.


	4. Bed and Breakfast

A/N: Oh dear, I completely forgot about this chapter. DX Luckily it was only a filler one, so everything else still made sense without it. But I've posted it anyways and put it here, so enjoy.

And if anyone sees any incorrect spelling/grammatical/punctuation etc, please tell me. Okay. You can read the story now.

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He came to slowly, rubbing his eyes. Yawning, stretching, then noticing Piper leaning on his doorframe, he asked, "How long have I been out?"

She frowned at him. "Long enough."

"Piper..."

"Two days." She left the room.

_Two whole days_? He was shocked. He had been up for longer than he had thought. Suddenly, his stomach rumbled, and he clutched it, groaning. Obviously he hadn't eaten for a while, either.

Painstakingly, he made his way to the kitchen, where Junko was cooking up yet another culinary monstrosity. "Hey, Aerrow." He smiled, waving a spatula. "Did you sleep okay? My fried hartil tentacles are almost done. You want any?"

One of the tentacles twitched, and despite his hunger, Aerrow went slightly green. "Uh, thanks but no thanks, Junko. I think I'll just make myself a sandwich."

"Oh no you don't," Piper barged in and slammed the refrigerator door shut, nearly squashing the Sky Knight's nose and making her other teammates jump in surprise.

Roaring in complaint, Aerrow's stomach made it known that it wasn't happy with this new development. "Oh, come on!" he complained along with it. "I haven't eaten in days!"

She kept her hand pressed against the fridge door. "Yes, and that's entirely your own fault. You were in that room for a week, Aerrow! And then two solid days of sleeping. I really don't know how you lasted that long, but that's beside the point. If you eat the wrong thing now, then your stomach will just reject it." The growlings it was emitting at this point seemed a bit contradictory. Aerrow sighed.

"What do I have to eat?"

"You're really gonna hate this, but..." She turned to the Wallop. "Junko, could you whip up some fried hartil tentacles?"

He smiled benignly. "Sure thing, Piper. I have some here that are almost done. Isn't that lucky?"

"Yeah, I have the best luck ever," Aerrow muttered. He turned to Piper pleadingly. "You're not seriously saying I have to eat some of _those_?" He waved a finger at the tentacles, one of which waved in response. Aerrow suppressed a shudder.

Piper couldn't help but crack a grin. "No, Aerrow, I'm just messing with your head. Eating hartil tentacles would only make it worse – you really _would_ throw up then. Let me bake you some sandcakes, they're light and they'll be very easy on your stomach."

Quickly and quietly, Aerrow pulled himself onto one of the barstools .If Piper was willing to make him his own batch of sandcakes, then he was willing to wait. After all, what was another half an hour with no food after nine days straight?

Junko lifted the tentacles from the pan and deposited them onto a nearby plate before turning to Piper as she busied herself around the kitchen. "Hey wait, does this mean you _don't_ need any hartil tentacles?"


	5. Speedy Recovery

"Can't you do this any faster?" he snapped at the mousy man sewing up his arm. If he had known it would take this long to get his wounds tended, he wouldn't have bothered.

"S-Sorry, sir. I'm working as fast as I can." The doctor was shaking in fear, and it took him visible effort to steady his hands before he continued stitching. He marvelled that the man in front of him did not even flinch or even wince as he was sewn up – but then again, this _was_ the Dark Ace - the man who had single-handedly defeated the original Storm Hawks and ultimately brought victory to Cyclonia. What were a few stiches in the face of that? During his musings, the doctor stuck the needle though one last time, tied off the thread and was done. "There, sir. All done."

"That's Commander to you. Being the Master's private doctor only gets you certain privileges. You had best remember your place." Dark Ace growled.

"Yes, yes, sorry Commander, how ignorant of me." He packed away his tools and scurried off before he could do anything else that would invoke the Dark Ace's wrath.

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Anger welled up as he wiped the thin layer of dust from his beloved Switchblade Elite. Just because he had had... a momentary lapse in normal activities, didn't mean that his Talons could do the same! He decided he would punish them later, though. Running his hands over the cool surface of the metal plating brought back memories of his many missions as a Talon commander, but much as he tried to block it, the memory of his most recent mission rose unbidden.

He wasn't sure why he hadn't just killed Aerrow then. It would have been the perfect opportunity, but instead he'd given the Sky Knight yet another reason to want him dead. So why had he let him get away?

Was the famed Dark Ace becoming weak?

As much as the Dark Ace hated to entertain such a thought, it stayed stubbornly in the forefront of his mind. He had meant what he had told his Master before – the Sky Knight would probably tell everyone his secret. If word of such a thing got out, he would lose all credibility. The Dark Ace was on a pedestal. He was the Champion of Cyclonia, and in almost everyone else's eyes, he was above the rest. If people knew that the Dark Ace was capable of love and regret, they would see him as less – they would see him as human. No mere human could defeat the Storm Hawks.

Even worse, now that the boy knew something so personal, he felt a strange sort of kinship with. It would have been easier if he hadn't gone on that recon mission in the first place. With the lifestyle that had been hammered into him for the last ten years, it seemed the only logical way to resolve this was to remove all traces of his weakness. But not only would this unwanted connection with the boy most likely stall his judgement again, the Storm Hawks had evaded him before in situations that were far more dire for them before, so he was no more likely than ever to beat them. Frustrated, he gazed at the wonder of engineering sitting in front of him and his anger dissipated. Why waste time dwelling on the past when he could be flying?

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-_- Oops, I went over the 400-500 word limit I set myself. It was 575 words. Oh well. I'll try not to let it happen again. I had no idea how hard it can be to cut down sometimes.


	6. Reconciled

I've had someone ask me why I don't bulk post this story when I already have all of it written. Answer: I'm a cruel, cruel person. Nah, just kidding. I mean, I am, but that's not why I'm only posting one chapter every three days. The reason is that if I bulk post, it'll go down the list of most recently updated list, and then less people will be likely to read it. So, there you go, you have to suffer ;) I'm sure you'll survive. Probably.

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Riding his switchblade again after so many weeks of inactivity felt strange, if only for a moment. He quickly fell back into rhythm, the machine responding fluidly to his touch as he flawlessly executed complicated spins, flips and dives, one after the other. Upon landing, he discovered he had drawn a fairly large crowd to his aerial acrobatics. They gazed at him in awe, too dumbstruck to even applaud his manoeuvres.

With a reputation like his, he could growl at them and they would scatter. So he did just that, and was rewarded with an empty landing strip. The peace was short lived as slow, steady claps echoed around the lonely edge of the strip.

"It's good to see your reputation still precedes you, Dark Ace. Perhaps if you're lucky, your escapade with the sky brat will go unmentioned."

"Is that a threat?"

A hint of mockery entered her tone. "Of course not, Dark Ace. Why would I threaten_ you_? In fact, I'm here to commend you on being out again so soon after our meeting earlier today. Tell me, how long did it take you to lose your patience with my personal doctor? Next time, try not to scare him so much. He was a snivelling wreck after you left."

"He got everything major stitched up and otherwise treated. And I only reminded him to address me by my title," he grumbled.

"According to him, you threatened his job and his life."

He snorted contemptuously. "Doctors like him always tend to exaggerate."

"So, I suppose you'll go and fight the little Sky Knight now, then?"

"...Yes?" The sudden change of topic put him off.

A supercilious smirk curled her lips. "Try not to get yourself too badly damaged," she drawled. "I don't think my doctor would survive another encounter with you."

He sighed internally. "Yes, Master."

"And don't think of running off to join the Storm Hawks in your mentally weakened state – yes, I know you used to be among their ranks. My grandmother told me. You _do_ know the new Storm Hawks have a rodent doing your old job, don't you?"

"Great confidence booster," he muttered.

She ignored his sarcasm. "Come now, Dark Ace. You know the children won't kill you, and you won't allow yourself to be captured by them." He strapped his pack to the back of his switchblade. "And don't tell them the rest of your life story when you're there. You're very boring when you're just moping around the castle."

His cheeks coloured, but he held his head high. "If it took me this long to get over things, then the boy will still be trying to 'reconcile his feelings.' They don't stand a chance."


	7. Clueless

"Sandcakes are ready!" Piper quickly donned a pair of oven mitts and popped open the oven door. Aerrow salivated.

"Ooh, sandcakes." Appearing out of nowhere, Finn snatched up one of the cakes from the tray before Piper could stop him. "Ow!" He dropped the still-hot sandcake, sucking at his burnt fingers. "Ow!" With his other hand he clutched the back of his head, where Piper had hit him after putting down the tray.

Hands on hips, she asked, "Honestly Finn, what were you thinking? Those sandcakes were straight out of the oven! Not to mention you _know_ I hate it when you just snatch stuff without asking."

"You still didn't have to hit me on the head," he mumbled past his fingers, rubbing at the small lump on his skull with his non-burnt hand.

She sighed. "Fine, just don't take any more. If you really need one, there's a slightly dusty one on the floor with your name all over it."

Forgetting his bumps and burns, he stooped eagerly to grab the fallen treat. Just as he was about to eat it, though, a green blur whizzed past and knocked it out of his hands. "Aw, man!"

"Do you know how many _germs_ that would have picked up on _first contact_ with the ground?"

Finn cringed slightly. "No, but I have a feeling you're gonna tell me."

Stork threw up his hand in exasperation. "Why would I even bother with that? It's not like you'd even listen anyway." Spying the rest of the sandcakes laid out enticingly on the tray, his hand shot out and grabbed one. "It's several million, by the way," he added, seemingly not able to resist.

Far too concentrated on inching his hand towards the dropped sandcake to pay attention to Stork's words, Finn had finally recovered it from its place on the floor. He wolfed it down with abandon only to suddenly choke as it stuck on the way down.

"Hmm. Probably all those dust particles will stick in your throat and you'll get an infection. But hey! I did try to warn you." He headed back to the helm, munching his own sandcake as he went.

Of course, being able to smell food miles off, Junko soon appeared in the kitchen and took a handful of the sweet cakes, shovelling them all into his mouth at one time.

"Can everyone just _stop_ eating these sandcakes?" Piper scowled, stamping her foot in frustration. "Aerrow hasn't eaten in _nine days_, and all that you guys can think about is your own stomachs!"

Junko's ears drooped. "Nine days? Aerrow, I came out and offered you food..." he trailed off, confused.

Unable to make eye contact with the rest of his team, Aerrow turned his head, pushing his plate around the table. "I wasn't hungry," he muttered, the words sounding false even to his own ears.

"Dude, I'd never be able to do that!"

The expression on Piper's face was of extreme concern, to say the least. "He didn't sleep once for seven days in a row, either."

"At the same time?" She nodded. "Okay, that proves it! Aerrow, my man, you are most definitely _not_ human." Finn slung an arm over his leader's shoulder. "No one can do that without going crazy."

Shrugging off Finn's grip, he sighed. "Problem is, I kind of did. I nearly bit Piper's head off before, and she was just trying to help."

Said teammate pushed a glass of water under his nose when the silence started to get too uncomfortable. "You better eat those sandcakes before anyone else does. You must be dehydrated, too." She gestured to the glass. Gratefully, he devoured his first sandcake, washing it down with a generous gulp of water.

Finn gave her a sceptical look. "Nice of you to try and change the subject and all, but we're not that stupid. I know this has something to do with that terra. What's going on?"

Looking to Aerrow, who, mouth still full, shrugged as a go-ahead, Piper summoned her courage and released it all in one breath. "Dark Ace told Aerrow he was part of the original Storm Hawks and that the only reason he killed them was so he could be with Aerrow's mum because he loved her but it went wrong and she died too so he joined Cyclonia."

"...Oh."

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A/N: Sorry sorry sorry, this one was way, way over the limit - it didn't cut down well so it ended up as a 725 word total. The characters just ran away from the original idea I had and did their own thing (much like they do with Piper's plans... Now I know how she feels.) They really liked those sandcakes and stopped listening to what I told them to do.


	8. An Unexpected Visitor

A/N: Oops, sorry, a day late. D: I, um, kinda forgot? Don't eat me. I'll post the next one a day early to make it up to you guys.

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Now that the _Condor_ was in his sights, the Dark Ace began to have second thoughts. What if he managed to get a shot at boy, but then hesitated again? He really would be the laughing stock of the Atmos. The Talon commander that almost took out the Storm Hawks, then let them go for no apparent reason.

He shook his head. _You're won't beat them thinking like that_. Quickly ducking below the cloud line, the Dark Ace navigated through the upper levels of the Wastelands. Moisture from the clouds that had dampened his clothes and condensed on his skimmer quickly evaporated in the intense heat. What he was doing involved a lot of guesswork – if left the cloud cover too early or too late, they would spot him and he would lose the element of surprise. It was just a matter of timing.

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A vaguely skimmer-shaped smudge formed on the horizon. Stork grabbed at the periscope, focusing on the potential threat.

Nothing.

He shook his head - he could have sworn he'd seen something. "You okay, Stork?" He turned to Piper, who was watching him over the top of her book of_ The History of All Known Crystals_. She was the only one there – Aerrow was catching up on his training, Finn was listening to his 'music' in his room, Junko was in the kitchen make a sandwich the _size_ of the kitchen and Radarr had disappeared.

Shaking his head again, Stork replied, "probably not. I thought I saw something, but when I looked through the periscope, there wasn't anything there. Of course, I_ could_ have bog fever – one of the first signs is hallucinations, and–"

"Stork! Calm down. It was probably nothing."

"And maybe it_ wasn't_ nothing," he muttered.

Smiling, Piper returned to her book. "I'm _sure_ it was nothing. I didn't see anything."

His reply was only half-hearted. "Of course you didn't see anything, Merbs have better sight than humans. Besides, you're reading a book."

"I really don't think there's anything unusual out there, Stork."

"Yeah, well, don't blame me if a school of sky sharks attacks the _Condor_."

Rolling her eyes, Piper was tempted to point out that they were nowhere near any known sites for sky sharks, but held her tongue, being content in letting Stork have the last word.

Barely a chapter of crystal history later, the alarm went off for unauthorised access in the hangar. She dropped her book and reached for her staff, but not before hearing Stork mutter, "told you so."

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"What's going on?" Piper met up with Aerrow in the corridor.

"Security breach in the hangar bay. Unauthorised skimmer, no idea how they got in without us noticing, or even who they are," she replied as they ran.

"I do," Aerrow told her grimly.

They stopped at the bay doors. "Who?"

He gestured towards the Switchblade Elite sitting on the deck, rider nowhere to be seen. Piper gasped.

The Dark Ace was on the _Condor_.

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A/N: Dun dun dun! What happens next? Find out in the not-so-awaited next chapter of The Other Descendants!


	9. Faceoff

A/N: Sorry for anyone who had confusion with the last udate. I'd realised that I'd accidentally left a chapter out (now chapter 4), so had to reorganise everthing and FF wasn't exactly being as helpful as it should.

I'm also sorry to say that after this chapter, I'm discontinuing this story.

I'll have it up for another week or so, then delete it.

August fools! Oh wait, wrong month... Oops. Sorry about that. Um, you can read the chapter now.

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And the worst thing? They had no idea where on the ship he was.

"Piper, stick with me, okay? We'll go find him." Furtively glancing side to side, they went back through the corridor they had just left.

_Clang!_ The suddenness of the sound made them both jump. _Crash! Boom! _Maniacal laughter filled the air, and if you had listened closely, you would have heard the screamed words, "GET OFF MY SHIP!" Then... sudden quiet.

"Stork!" They sprinted for the helm to see him splayed on the floor, not moving. Hurriedly, they pushed aside crates, boxes and all manner of objects that had probably come from the onboard traps. Piper gently pressed fingers to his throat, relieved to find a faint pulse.

"He's okay, just unconscious."

Relief flooded Aerrow's features. "The way he was lying there... I thought he was dead. But why would the Dark Ace knock him out? That doesn't seem like him. Usually, he'd just... kill anyone in his way."

Piper grunted as she pulled Stork onto the couch. "I don't know why. Just be glad he didn't. We should find him before he gets the others. We'll split up." She ignored Aerrow's protests.

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"Chika...cha," Finn whispered to himself as he lined up the shot. There was no way the Dark Ace would see him. The bolt whistled through air, aimed directly at the Dark Ace's head. So quick he was almost a blur, he spun, activated his blade, and cleaved the bolt from nock to tip, following with a shot through the crates where Finn was hiding. He managed to dive behind another stack of crates without being hit, but his crossbow was blasted out of his hands, the explosion from where the energy shot had blown up his remaining bolts leaving a gaping hole in the wall.

"I can't see why Ravess has such trouble outshooting you," he mocked, advancing on the cowering blonde. "Useless."

"Stop right there, Dark Ace!"

His lips curled into a sardonic grin. "Is that a challenge, girl?" She jumped at him, staff swinging. "I'll take that as a yes." He effortlessly parried her blows, having the audacity to correct her strokes. "Bend your elbows more; it puts more power in the swing. No, not like that! You're a terrible student." She swung the staff at his legs and he jumped, easily ducking as the staff came back at his head. "This is getting boring." He dodged another swipe and let off a point-blank shot right in the centre of her chest, blasting her across the room and into a wall. Her head connected with a sickening crunch and she slid to the floor, unconscious.

"Piper!" Aerrow shouted. He had arrived just in time to see her slam into the wall. _I knew we shouldn't have split up._

"You just lost the element of surprise, _Aerrow_." He added the same sarcastic inflection on his name he always did.

Emerald eyes narrowed to slits. "You'll pay for hurting them."

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A/N: Okay, sorry it's taking so long to get to the actual story, but this is just too much fun to write. Couple more chapters of this, then we'll get there, I promise.


	10. Revenge Part 1

A/N:I actually had a bit of a scare with this chapter. See, I'm actually typing each chapter as its own page in OneNote, then copy/pasting it into Word for the word count (it's just easier to organise.) Anyway, I was just checking through the sections, and for some reason, this chappie was missing. But because I had been doing the copy/paste thing, I just pressed ctrl + z a LOT of times and rescued it, so crisis averted, I didn't have to write it out again. *coughs* So, um, yeah. You can read the chapter now.

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Aerrow quickly assessed the situation. Piper was still breathing, if the faint rise and fall of her chest was anything to go by, but didn't look like she'd wake up anytime soon. The crossbow in the corner was a mangled heap and so was Finn. No help there, either. Last time he'd checked, Stork was still out, Junko was coming but at the other end of the ship, and he hadn't seen Radarr all day. For now, he was on his own.

Activating his daggers, he charged the Dark Ace. Blue and red collided; the resulting sparks scattered purple on the floor. "What, no stories?" the dark haired man joked. "It _is_ technically your turn."

"Story time's over, Dark Ace." Aerrow gritted his teeth as he pushed back against the older man's sword. Despite the obvious age difference, they were evenly matched. Neither could land a hit on his opponent, but it didn't stop them from trying. Aerrow had been training that whole morning, as his aching arms were now reminding him. He listened to Junko's pounding footsteps - they were so close now, the _Condor_'s walls were starting to shake. He just had to hold out for a little while longer, then Junko and his Knucklebusters could take over. Just a little longer...

"I can see you're weakening Aerrow. You were training just before I came, correct?"

"Yeah, but you look a little worse for wear yourself." Aerrow had noticed the scratches adorning his opponent. It was hard not to.

The Dark Ace backed up as purple sparks showered around them again. Aerrow pressed his advantage, striking out savagely. When he swung down on the broadsword, he didn't expect it to be suddenly withdrawn; only his lightning-fast reflexes stopped him from falling to the ground, which would leave him open for attack. In those few precious moments, the Dark Ace had already slashed the wires of the nearby skimmers and mounted his switchblade. Split second reactions had always come naturally to Aerrow. Despite his protesting muscles, he scrambled to his skimmer - luckily, the Dark Ace had only attacked Finn's and Junko's rides - and took off after the Talon commander. Radarr, who had all along been snoozing in a sheltered alcove above the hangar doors, woke and leapt onto the skimmer's side-cart.

The extra weight of the Switchblade Elite's armour made it slightly slower than Aerrow's lll Ultra, giving him the chance to catch up. "Come on," he urged his skimmer, sitting as low in the seat as he possibly could. Suddenly spinning his switchblade, the Dark Ace was now flying directly at Aerrow. There was no question of the Cyclonian blinking, and its reinforced nose would shred through Aerrow's skimmer like paper. Aerrow dove and performed a flip of his own, so he was flying upside-down above the Cyclonian. "Radarr, take over!" The co-pilot crawled into the front seat as Aerrow lithely dropped onto the switchblade's wing. Eyes both red and green narrowed. The battle was on.


	11. Revenge Part 2

A/N: Because I really suck at cutting down action chapters into just one or even two chapters, you guys also get this.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

No matter how many sudden swerves, dives, corkscrews or flips the Dark Ace employed, he couldn't shake the stubborn red-head. Snarling, he set the controls to automatic and leapt at him. Aerrow whipped out his blue energy blades to counter the red. Flashes of energy painted the sky as they duelled on the wings of the Cyclonian skimmer. With shock, both of them realised how close the Dark Ace was to the edge. Dark Ace used Aerrow's faltering for his own gain, shoving him to the other side of the switchblade. Thumping on the wing, his blades went spiralling into the clouds, and he was perilously close to following them. Quick as flash, he was back on his feet, hands curled into fists in the absence of a weapon.

"Ha! You really think you have a chance now?" The Dark Ace lifted the blade to deliver the finishing blow. Aerrow's eyes darted around, assessing the best possible reaction. _Those damn eyes_... Dark Ace wasn't sure if he thought the words or spoke them, but regardless, he stopped his downward swing.

This time, Aerrow took advantage of the Dark Ace's hesitation, ripping the broadsword from his hands. Surprised at the sudden turn of events, the Dark Ace stepped back from the blade that had served him so well. "You were wrong," Aerrow whispered. "This _is_ my sword." The Dark Ace backed away from the burning blade.

"You realise what you're doing, Aerrow." His voice rasped from the fear that the red-head would push him off the edge, and he cursed his reluctance to end the boy's life. Now it would cost him his own. _You know the children won't kill you... _He wanted to laugh. Cyclonis was wrong.

Emerald eyes unwavering, he replied, "Like you always say. No mercy." And he jabbed the sword forward, the Dark Ace having no choice but to jump off the switchblade. Radarr flew the skimmer close, and Aerrow leapt back to his own craft.

Free-falling was quite a different experience when you knew there was nothing to save you at the end. He would have expected fear, but it didn't come. Maybe it would later, when he fell through the clouds and could see what he was going to be splattered across. Wait, he still had his battle-glider. Of course, now it made sense that the boy could have done that so easily – he had known he wouldn't be killing anyone.

Or would he? With encroaching horror, the Dark Ace realised that the wing release had snapped. His scream rang out as he plummeted through the cloud line.

At about the same time, the switchblade's automatic failed and it dropped like a stone, following its pilot into the Wastelands. Aerrow landed his skimmer on the deck, Finn and Junko both dumbstruck. Piper still lay unconscious against the wall, unaware of the death the others had witnessed. Numbly, Aerrow dismounted his ride. He gazed at the broadsword that was his prize, then blankly at the others.

"I can't believe it. He's... gone."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: *shifty eyes* I didn't borrow/steal that last line from the last episode of Storm Hawks! No, what makes you think that? And I realise that I'm probably going to get a lot of angry reviews from that... oh well, it's not like you know where I live. :P


	12. Nightmares

A/N: Huh. No angry fangirls on my doorstep because I killed off Dark Ace. That's odd. And I went to all that trouble of putting out booby traps... *is disappointed*

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Aerrow entered a state similar to the first stage of Sky Shock after the Dark Ace's death. He took little or no interest in anything, preferring to stare blankly at the wall or ceiling. All the work that had been put into his recovery was wasted. Now it was a trial just to get him out of bed, and the others had voted Piper for that – she was the only one who could wake him up without having to resort to violence. She came into the room, Aerrow tossing restlessly and murmuring in his sleep.

"Broadsword... No, can't be dead... No competition... Who'll I fight now...?"

Piper sighed. Not one day in weeks had passed without Aerrow dreaming about it. The others regarded it as an accident, because none of them would have ever guessed that the Dark Ace's battle glider would fail, leaving him to fall unhindered into the Wastelands. Still, Aerrow blamed himself for it.

She poked him tentatively. "Aerrow, wake up."

He sighed, opening his eyes. "What's the point anymore?"

She put on a brave face. "Look, Aerrow. Finn scoured the Wastelands for four hours to find you these." Blue energy blades appeared from behind her back and she pressed them into his unwilling hands. "...He said he didn't see any sign of the Dark Ace."

The blades clattered to the ground. "What's the point?" he repeated. "I won't be using them." He indicated the broadsword propped against the wall.

Her smile faltered imperceptibly. "I know, but... blue Strikers are rare, especially of this quality. I even refined one of them a bit so it would be more compatible with your dad's sword, and I thought you'd want to be the first to put it in the catch."

"If I have to." Listless fingers first loosened the crystal from the dagger, then slid it into the empty socket of the broadsword.

Something in Piper snapped. She backhanded him across the face, and he stared at her, shocked. "Will you just _stop_ it, Aerrow? We're all sick to death of you moping around! It's not your fault that the Dark Ace's battle-glider failed, so _get over it_!" She slapped him again. "Yes, even though he was a bad guy, we feel bad about his death, but you – YOU take it too far! This is the guy that killed your _father_. Show some backbone, or get off this ship!" This time, he caught her hand before it could make contact.

"Thanks for slapping some sense into me, Piper."

Irritably, she wrestled out of his grip. "Yeah, well, I don't want to hear it, because you know what else I'm sick of? _Every time_ something like this happens to you, I'm _always_ the one that has to get you back on your feet. I've had it. You need to show some self-recuperating skills." She headed for the door. "I'll be in my lab," she muttered. "If you want to keep your head attached to your shoulders, you'll leave me alone."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: ^_^ Sorry. I couldn't resist. He so had it coming for him.


	13. Fire Lice

A/N: Hehe, finally put this in a genre, because I couldn't think of it before... I feel really stupid for not immediately thinking 'family', since, y'know, that's kind of the end point of the story...

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Hey, Aerrow, you're up! Listen, I was just wondering, if you feel like having some fun after just lying in bed for so long, I have this great-"

"Not now, Finn. I need to catch up with my training... Again." He headed off to the laundry to pick up his training gear, leaving a dejected Finn in his wake. The overhead speakers suddenly crackled to life, Stork's voice echoing in the corridors. "Um, Aerrow? I need to talk to you on the bridge. Now. Sooner, if you can." Sighing, he went back the way he had come.

When he reached the bridge, the door had barely opened before a figure in all black dragged him in and pinned him to the ground, simultaneously locking all accesses to the bridge and covering his mouth. "_Shh..._" Whoever it was, they were strong. No matter how much he wriggled, he couldn't get free of their grasp. Desperately, he looked around to see what they had done with Stork, but couldn't see the pilot anywhere. "Okay," they whispered. "She's not listening." Hastily, the person stood up, brushing themselves down and muttering about infection.

He knew that rambling tone anywhere. "_Stork_?"

Deeming himself to be germ-free, Stork took off the black helmet that had before obscured his face. "Of course," he replied in a low voice. "Who did you expect?"

"What was I supposed to expect?" Aerrow hissed back. "I get a panicked call by you to get to the bridge, then when I get there, I get tackled by someone dressed like a wannabe ninja! And why the hell are we whispering anyway?"

"First of all, it's a protective biohazard suit," he sniffed. "Second of all, thank you for catching on so quickly about the whispering thing. _She_ might be listening."

"Who's _she_?"

Stork glanced furtively from side to side before mouthing, "_Piper_."

"What?"

He slammed his hand down on Aerrow's mouth again. "Keep it _down_. Let me explain. I saw Piper just before, looking extremely agitated, not talking to anyone. Then she stormed into her lab, which is nice and quiet and dark, the perfect breeding ground for..." he paused for effect. "_Fire lice_." The red-head rolled his eyes, unable to speak since Stork's hand was still over his mouth. "She must have picked them up the last time we were in the Wastelands. They're actually a relation to mindworms." _Okay, here we go. Once he mentions mindworms there's no stopping him._ He held up a finger on the hand that wasn't clamped over Aerrow's mouth. "Stage One. The infected subject will at first become very aggravated, because they can feel the fire lice burrowing into their skin." Another finger. "Stage 2. The lice travel through the host's bloodstream, corrupting the vocal chords." The third finger went up, his whole hand shaking. "And finally, Stage 3. They get to the brain, and drive the host _insane_. Then they die." His eye twitched. "Piper's already at stage 2, but there's still a chance we can save her if we fumigate the ship." Aerrow was finally successful in pushing Stork's hand away.

"You don't have to worry, Stork, Piper doesn't have fire lice. It's just that she's angry at me for breaking down over... what happened."

"Oh. Well, I think we should still get fumigated, just in case."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: D: I went over the limit... Again. But this time it was only by a little bit. Total 550 words. Just a humorous little break after the angsty bitch-slap Piper gave Aerrow.

Oh, and the next update *might* be a day late, just to warn you. I'm going out on my boat for three days. That's right. 36 foot catamaran. Be jealous. :P

-pixie.


	14. Discussions and Diagrams

A/N: Hey, not late after all! Well, here you go, guys - next chapter of The Other Descendants.

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Over the next few days, Piper spent most of her time holed up in her lab, and Aerrow spent most of his training. If they ever happened to pass in the corridors, they acted as if the other wasn't there. Breakfast had become a quiet affair.

About a week of this passed before Finn decided he couldn't take it anymore. He sauntered onto the bridge, and, confident that Piper and Aerrow were nowhere near, walked up to Stork. "Hey, Stork, buddy, how ya doing?"

Stork shuddered and delicately lifted Finn's arm off his shoulder. "Well, I'm still engaged in an endless struggle to fend off the invading microbes that could at any minute get into my system and result in my inevitable doom, so, the usual."

"...Uh huh. Well, anyway, I was wondering if I could borrow the onboard speaker system for a second."

"No."

"What? Why not? Please?" he whined, not waiting for an answer between questions.

Stork glanced at him irritably. "Because last time I did, you wired your 'music' into the system, so it was playing full-blast for at least two _hours_ before I could figure out how to dismantle it."

"Oh, come on, Stork! I just need to call Junko and Radarr here!"

"Why can't you just go get them yourself?"

"_Because_ I'm lazy. Can you just let me?"

"Fine, take it." Stork shoved the microphone at him. "But if you do _anything_ besides calling them here, I'll throw you into the Wastelands."

"Geez, get all touchy," Finn muttered, but still grabbed eagerly at the mic.

"This is your painfully good-looking Master Blaster speaking," he drawled. Stork face-palmed. "Requesting Junko and Radarr at the bridge, pronto." The mic clicked off, and he put it back in its slot. "There, Stork, see? No funny stuff. Oh, when they come, could you just lock all the doors to the bridge? Don't want Piper or Aerrow crashing our plans." He grinned at the Merb.

"_Our _plans?"

Radarr and Junko arrived at the bridge, and Stork, sighing, locked all access to the bridge.

"What's up, Finn?" Junko asked. Radarr, not being able to speak their language, just chirped questioningly.

Finn drew himself up importantly. "Well, you all know how moody Piper and Aerrow have been lately." He started pacing in front of them like a war general. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting kinda sick of it." He spun to face them. "I say we need a plan."

"This is gonna end badly."

Finn ignored Stork's comment. "Okay, people, huddle up. The Finnster's already got it covered. What we'll do is..."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A whole heap of whispered discussion and pointless diagrams later, the plan was set.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Finn, this is a pretty good plan."

"_Pretty good_?" Finn looked offended. "Stork, don't insult me. It's an _awesome_ plan!"

"Whatever. As long as don't have to leave the helm for any longer than necessary."

The sharpshooter rolled his eyes. "Okay, Junko. Begin Stage One."


	15. Double Dummies

A/N: *dodges rotten tomatoes* Sorry, I know I said it would only be a few more chapters of this sort of stuff, and it's already been about five. *dodges anvils* And there'll be about five more. *nearly gets crushed by a piano* Hey, that was uncalled for. You're lucky that I'm still giving you this chapter. *grumbles*

.:':. .:':. .:':.

The grinning face of the dummy once again bobbed into view, and once again Aerrow battered it with his daggers. Junko lumbered in and watched. Aerrow stopped. "Junko, you here for a reason?"

"What?" The Wallop jumped up, rubbing the back of his head when he bumped it. "Oh, yeah. I, uh-" Tripping over his feet as well as his words, he crashed into the dummy, sending it careening off the deck and into the clouds. "Ooh, sorry."

"...It's fine, Junko. I should be heading in anyway," he replied.

"Oh, okay. I can't remember why I came here, so..."

"O...kay." Aerrow hurried off.

Junko smiled, then detached the com unit from his belt. "Finn!" he stage-whispered. "Stage One complete!"

.:':. .:':. .:':.

After receiving the signal from Junko, Finn gave Radarr the heads-up for Stage Two. The mission specialist saluted him and ran to Aerrow's room.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Hey Radarr," Aerrow sighed at his furry blue companion, who chirped at him, pointing wildly. "What's wrong?" His co-pilot squawked and tugged his pant leg, still gesturing frantically. He sighed again. "Fine, I'm coming."

Radarr clambered up on his shoulder, pointing the way whenever they came to an intersecting path. Many twists and turns later, Radarr led him into one of their myriad storerooms. The door clicked shut behind them, locked. Aerrow spun at the sound, pounding at the unyielding door. "What..." He looked at Radarr, who chattered sorrowfully, leapt off his shoulder and clambered through a tiny hatch in the air vent. "Hey!" He resumed banging on the door. "This isn't funny! Let me out!"

Finn heard Aerrow's muffled shouts and grinned smugly. Time for Stage Three.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Nuh-uh, not doing it."

"Come on, Stork. It's only for a minute."

"Fine," he growled. "But _only_ for a minute."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

There was a knock on the door. Piper put down the crystal she was working on and, sighing, opened the door. "Look, Aerrow, if you've come to apologise again, I don't-oh, hey Stork." Surprised to see the pilot unglued from the helm, she ushered him into the lab, unaware of Finn creeping in behind them. "What's the problem?"

"I... Uh... Need you to check the crystal array on my x-ray peepers! Yeah. They've... started... going fuzzy whenever I put them on. I think it's the crystal array, and figured you'd know what to do, being the crystal expert."

"Sure, just let me have a look." Stork was glad he always kept the peepers with him; he'd actually just made up the story. He handed them over and she peered intently at the crystal array. "Well, everything seems to be fine here, maybe the glass is just fogged up..." She trailed off after a sudden tinkle alerted her to Finn's presence. Finn grinned and, clutching Piper's new crystal, dashed out the open door. "FINN! GIVE ME BACK THAT CRYSTAL!" she shouted, racing after him.

Stork sighed, happy his part was over and he could return to the helm.


	16. Captured

A/N: Okay, I know people always hate these (as I do myself), but I really need to know if there are people actually enjoying this, so I would like at least 3 reviews before I post the next chapter, or I'll discontinue it. I'd like to thank Amber Pegasus for their constant reviews and support, I think I would have come to this decision a lot sooner if not for you.

Sorry 'bout this, everyone, but I need to know if there are any others that like this story.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Finn had underestimated Piper's speed when working out this part of the plan. All those morning deck jogs had paid off. It's not like Finn wasn't a fast runner – he had to be, as a sharpshooter. Half the work there was being quick enough to get to a good spot to shoot from.

It's just that Piper was a little faster.

_Still not enough to ruin the plan, though_, Finn thought triumphantly as the corridor turned into a dead end. She slowed a bit as she watched him back against the wall. He was sure he had the appropriate mask of horror plastered on his face. Suddenly, like he had been hoping for, she charged at him, full force. At the last moment, he rolled out of the way and punched the lock pad for the door. Stumbling as she fell into the space where she had expected to tackle Finn, she wasn't able to stop herself from crashing into a surprised Aerrow, and they toppled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Finn leaned on the doorway, inspecting the crystal and waiting for her to get up. Sure enough, she shoved herself off Aerrow's chest and went to charge Finn again. He thumped the lock pad, grinning at her as the door slammed in her shocked face. _What a performance_, he thought. _I should totally become an actor someday._

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Stork shook his head. "I still can't quite believe you managed to pull that off."

He smiled smugly, inspecting his nails. "Glad you appreciate my genius. You rerouted the speaker system yet?"

Stork tapped a few more buttons. "Rerouting... Now!" He stabbed the bright red button in the middle of the console.

Finn grabbed the onboard mic. "Okay, attention please. Thanks to my amazingly awesome plan, you two are going to stay locked in there until you stop fighting. However long that takes." Finn stopped, listening hard, and was rewarded with faint screams of frustration. "Have fun."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Are you _serious_?" Piper growled, plunking down on a nearby crate.

Aerrow peered up at the air vent hatch that Radarr had escaped through, but it was clearly far too small for either of them. "Yep. We're stuck. The only exits are that door, which is locked, and this vent, which is too small for us. I never thought Finn would be up to something like this – I mean, sure, he pulls a lot of stupid pranks, but this... You have to give him credit."

"I can't believe we were stupid enough to fall for that!" Piper groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

He pulled up a crate next to her, smiling. "I think it just shows how smart Finn can be when he actually bothers. How many times have the Dark Ace and Cyclonis tried to catch us? I think we've underestimated him."

She pondered it, a reluctant grin stretching her lips. "I guess so. We're never going to hear the end of it."

Crossing his arms behind his head, he leaned back against the cold metal of the wall. "At least were talking again. Piper... I really am sorry-"

"Look, Aerrow, if you try to apologise one more time, I swear I'm going to bash your head in with my staff. I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier."

Shaking his head, he replied, "No, you should have. It was a real eye-opener. I expect too much of you, I always have, and that you've been able to bear that burden for so long shows how strong you are."

"Can you _please_ not argue with me on this?"

"Why don't we just agree that we're both at fault?"

Piper smiled again. "I think I'll be able to handle that."

"Good. Then that's settled." Aerrow's grin froze. "Hey, great that we're okay now, but how do we let the others know?"

Simultaneously, they leapt up and started pounding on the door.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: DX I'm really, really bad at capping it. Total of 650 words this time. It's just the plot bunnies. I think they've gone rabid.


	17. Pillows and Arguments

A/N: *Looks around for reviews to continue* You know what? Screw you guys! I'm posting anyway. (But thank you again to Amber Pegasus for being the only one reviewing.)

.:':. .:':.

"I'm bored. Let's go see how they're doing." Finn grinned and dashed off.

"I... think I'll just stay here at the helm." Stork clutched the steering wheel tightly.

Junko shrugged. "Okay. C'mon, Radarr. Let's check if the skimmers need tuning."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Finn! We've stopped arguing! Let us out!" Piper shouted hoarsely, pounding feebly on the door. She sighed. "If I have to keep this up much longer, my hands are going to start bleeding."

He paused in his own door-bashing and held up his hands ruefully. "Mine already have." Blood stained the sides of his gloves.

"Aerrow!" she cried, quickly grabbing them and inspecting the damage. "Why didn't you stop?" He shrugged. Sighing, she peeled off his soiled gloves, threw them onto a crate, pushed him down next to them and grabbed the edge of her shirt.

"Uh..." His eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

Not answering, she swiftly tore out one of the many patches in her shirt and then ripped it in half, leaving her midsection bare. Aerrow tried to keep his eyes focused on his bloodied gloves. Deftly, Piper wrapped up one of his hands, then the other. "There." She tightened the knot securely. "That should be good enough until we can get to the medical kit." Blushing, she suddenly realised why Aerrow was avoiding her gaze, and tried in vain to pull the two sides of her shirt together. Failing in that endeavour, she settled for crossing her arms over her stomach, and she sat down next to him.

"What now?"

There was a sudden clatter outside. "Finally, they've come to let us out!" Excitedly, they both leapt up. "Okay, Finn, we've stopped fighting, you can let us out now," she called.

The blonde on the other side of the door scoffed. "Piper, please, I'm not that stupid. It's only been half an hour. No-one can go from acting like someone doesn't exist to talking to them that quickly." They heard him sigh. "Well, if that's the way you're gonna act, I guess I'll leave." His footsteps slowly retreated.

"So you're going to leave us here even though we've stopped arguing?" Aerrow shouted at him. No response. "This sucks."

"Well, could be worse. You could be locked in here yourself, or the crystal in the light could power out." The light suddenly flickered a few times and they were plunged into darkness.

Aerrow groaned. "You had to say it, didn't you?"

"Sorry." A few scuffles and she moved closer to him. "Where are you?"

"You're touching my hand."

"Oh." Piper shifted slightly so she wasn't in contact with him, glad that the dark would hide her blush. The conversation died, and she suppressed a yawn.

Aerrow grabbed her arm and slid them both onto the floor. "Come on, you're tired." He grinned – not that she could see – patting his chest and quickly removing the armour there. "I'll be a human pillow."

"...Thanks." Gratefully, Piper nestled her head on his torso, quickly falling asleep.


	18. Blackmail

"Dude, you have _got_ to see this," Finn chuckled into his radio.

"Well, I dunno, my skimmer's brake fluid started leaking, I should probably fix it now." Junko's voice drifted out of the speaker.

"Oh, come on, Junko. You have to come over here. I'll give Stork a buzz, he'll love this."

"Okay, Finn, just give me and Radarr a minute." The radio clicked off.

Finn pressed the button to call the helm. "Stork, come to the storeroom, you're gonna love this."

The Merb sighed. "I doubt I will, but if I don't come freely you'll probably drag me over."

"Yup," he replied cheerfully. "Bring your camera."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Uh... Wow. That certainly is... interesting. But we should wake them so they can go sanitise themselves."

Junko clasped his hands together. "Aww, that's so cute."

Radarr stared, jaw slack with surprise.

"Well, when I thought of this absolutely awesome plan, I didn't expect it to result in this. But you have to admit, it's been coming a long time."

They stood outside the door to storage room, enough light from the corridor to illuminate the scene before them. Aerrow and Piper, both asleep, his arms curled protectively around her as she lay snuggled into his chest.

"Blackmail!" Finn cried in a sing-song voice, grabbing the camera off Stork and snapping a picture.

"Huh?" Aerrow mumbled, groggily rubbing his eyes. Piper stirred at his movements. It took them only a few seconds to fully wake up, realise what position they were in, notice their teammates watching from the door, and scramble away from each other, blushing. "Okay, this isn't what it looks like."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Tell us, then!"

"Uh, well, and Piper was tired, and I offered myself as a pillow. It was the gentlemanly thing to do! There weren't any... ulterior motives... like you seem to think."

"Of _course_ not," he answered in a tone that implied the exact opposite.

Stork seized the camera, lifting it high above Finn's head. "Amusing as you may find this, Finn, I believe this is _my_ camera. So any blackmail rights belong to me."

Finn tried to unsuccessfully retrieve the camera a few times, then gave up. "Fine. Take your stupid blackmail."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have my daily room decontamination to attend to." He stalked off, camera still in hand.

Aerrow and Piper both chose that moment to surreptitiously slip away, lest Finn start annoying them again.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Later, when they were all sitting at the bridge, Finn yawned dramatically and grinned at Aerrow. "Man, I'm tired. Aerrow, can I use you as a pillow?"

"Lay off, Finn."

"Aerrow, I know you're still feeling down after what happened with the Dark Ace-" Piper started, but was interrupted by the sharpshooter.

"Oh, so you'll talk to your _girlfriend_, but not me."

"Finn!" they shouted, exasperated. He shrunk back.

"Anyway, I was thinking... Maybe you should go check out the history records of the old Storm Hawks. You might find out some more about your dad."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: *bangs head on desk* ARGH! Why plot bunnies, why?

I didn't want or mean for there to be any AxP, it just... happened. *head desk* I can assure you there is no more after this, though.


	19. Anticipation

A/N: Finally, I'm getting to what I said I would in the summary! Sorry it took so long to actually get here people, I suppose that I just got carried away with what happened beforehand. You know, crazed plot bunnies and all.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Ah yes, the Sky Knight Aerrow. How may I help you?"

"Well sir, I was wondering if– Wait, did you just call me Sky Knight?"

The balding man smiled at him, peering over the top of his glasses. "Of course. Didn't you know that last time you came for approval as a squadron it was passed?"

"No," he murmured, thinking of how excited the others would be when they found out. "But that's not what I'm here for."

"Oh?" The man raised his eyebrows.

Aerrow swallowed. It was always difficult talking up at someone on a podium so high above you. It made you feel belittled. "I've come to look at the records for the old Storm Hawks and see if there's anything I can learn about my parents."

He clasped his hands in delight. "Ah, finally! We were wondering when you would ask." After he climbed down from the podium, Aerrow was shocked to find the man was shorter than himself. "You see, an ancient formality decrees that only those of blood relation to a squadron may give permission to view said squadron's records."

"Well, you're welcome to look at the records for the Storm Hawks. But with all due respect, sir, that's a stupid rule."

He sighed. "I agree, but every time we vote on it, it is somehow decided it should be kept that way. Now, we can finally know some more!"

"Did...Did you know the Dark Ace was once a Storm Hawk?'

The man turned to him, surprised. "Did you only just find out? You poor boy! But then again who would tell you... Who _did_ tell you?"

Aerrow shuffled uncomfortably. "The Dark Ace."

He nodded wisely. "I thought so. Most likely person to have told you – you haven't been here in a while, and only the Dark Ace himself and those who work here really remember. Ah, here we are." He eased a thick tome off the shelf, blowing ten years' worth of dust from its cover and handed it to Aerrow. "I hope you find the answers you are searching for."

"Thank you, sir."

Yellowed paper rustled as he turned the first page. Elegant script sprawled across it, detailing the changes of team members over the years. The list went on for several pages, the handwriting changing as new bookkeepers had been hired over the years. Fresh ink stood out on the final line and he sucked in a surprised breath as he saw the names of his own squadron members. But really it made sense – hadn't he just been told his squad was official? Carefully, he turned to the page indicated and skimmed over what was written there, thankful that they had employed someone with neat handwriting. He nodded to himself. All the information they had seemed to be correct – squadron positions, ages – they had even added Radarr under 'mission specialist'. He smiled at that.

Hands shaking slightly, Aerrow double-checked he had the right number, and turned to the page of his predecessors.


	20. Revelations

Dust from untold years stirred from the book's confines, sticking in Aerrow's throat and nose, making him cough. He waved a hand to clear the air before looking at the page. Some impulse led him to look at the listings for the other Storm Hawks before checking his father's. Besides, the Sky Knight was always at the back on the listings. First, there was the sharpshooter, Finch.

_Name: Finch_

_Squadron position: Marksman, navigator_

_Family: Parents Unknown. Known family members are sister Rhea, Crystal Mage of the Storm Hawks, and son, Finn._

_Age at joining: 18_

_Age at death: 25_

Aerrow stared at the page, stunned. Finn's dad was a Storm Hawk? But... the Guardians had told him he was the last descendant of the original Storm Hawks! _No, they told you that you were the last descendant of Lightning Strike_, a voice in his head reminded him. _You just assumed the rest. The Dark Ace was part of the Storm Hawks once as well, remember? You couldn't have been the only one, then. The Dark Ace was still alive when they told you._ Aerrow smothered the voice. Finn being a descendant, he was okay with, but acknowledging the Dark Ace as a Storm Hawk? That was territory he didn't want to travel through.

Next listing. Finch's sister, Rhea.

_Name: Rhea_

_Squadron position: Crystal Mage, battle strategist _

_Family: Parents Unknown. Known family members are brother Finch, Marksman of the Storm Hawks, and nephew, Finn._

_Age at joining: 16_

_Age at death: 23_

And another.

_Name: Ethan_

_Squadron position: Strongman, mechanic_

_Family: Unknown (orphan)_

_Age at joining: 20_

_Age at death: 27_

His gut twisted at the next listing, especially at the end.

_Name: Asaph (also known as: Ace)_

_Squadron position: Co-pilot of Sky Knight_

_Family: Unknown (orphan)_

_Age at joining: 14_

_Age at betrayal: 18_

Then, last of all, Aerrow's mother and father, both on the same page.

Obviously not part of the official records, but stowed away carefully all the same, were two old photographs – but not so old as to have no colour – covered in protective paper. After Aerrow had gently lifted the first photo from its protective covers he realised it was of the original Storm Hawks. His gut twisted when he saw his father's arm slung casually over the Dark Ace's shoulder. The photo looked to have been taken only a few days before they were killed by one of their own.

The second photo, once uncovered, showed only four people, all of them looking curiously familiar. Like the previous photo, it seemed to have been taken mere days before the original Storm Hawks were defeated. And in the white gap below the picture, in curly, flowing handwriting, were written these words: _Lightning Strike and family: Strike with wife Ardea, and their children, Aerrow (age 4), and Starling (age 11)._

He just stared at the words for a few moments, scanning them over and over, wondering if there had been some sort of mistake. Just to make sure, he went over the listings for his parents.

_Name: Ardea_

_Squadron position: Carrier Pilot, co-navigator_

_Family: Husband Lighting Strike, son Aerrow, and daughter Starling_

_Age at joining: 24_

_Age at death: 31_

_Name: Lightning Strike_

_Squadron position: Sky Knight_

_Family: Wife Ardea, son Aerrow, and daughter Starling_

_Age at joining: 23_

_Age at death: 30_

He closed the book with a mute thud. No, there was no doubt about it. Starling was his sister.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: T.T Damn plot bunnies really must have rabies. I went over the word limit. Yes. Again. It was about 575 words. But seriously though, I think I should take them to the vet or something.


	21. Confrontation

"Sky Knight Aerrow, did you find what you were looking for?"

"I certainly found something," he muttered. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

The old man watched, puzzled, as he strode to the door. "You're welcome to peruse your family history any time!" he called after the retreating figure.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

After quickly slipping back onto the _Condor_ to check the maps, Aerrow flew to terra Mesa, where he knew Starling had a bunker, built for her by the people of her terra. It was unlikely that she would even be there – she was almost always on some mission – but it was the only place that he knew that she ever lived.

He had to try.

Landing the skimmer fluidly as he always did, Aerrow marched purposefully towards the door. Light filtered through the window; she was home. He gave three sharp knocks on the door before it opened.

Starling took one look at Aerrow's expression and sighed sadly. "I knew you would find out someday. Come in." She turned and walked to the kitchen, Aerrow following. Pulling out two barstools, she sat down on one and looked at her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me? You were old enough at the time to remember your family. Why?"

She didn't look up. "Because I didn't want you to know that you had a failure for a sister."

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder at hearing the hurt in her tone, his anger forgotten. "Starling, you're not a failure."

"Yes I am!" she cried, standing up and pushing his hand away. Tears that she had always held back sprung to her eyes, threatening to spill over. "I let my squad die when I survived myself. I should have died trying to protect them. Do you have any idea how it feels to be responsible for someone's death? "

"They were already dead when you got there," he said gently, ignoring the twist in his gut. "I know; I've seen the report. Alive, you can at least honour their memory."

Starling rubbed furiously at her eyes. "Why do people have to die?" she whispered.

Aerrow shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. But... I think we need to move on from the past, and stay in the world of the living."

"What do you mean, 'we'? Your squadron is still alive. No-one close to you has died that you have any memory of."

"I killed the Dark Ace," he replied quietly, sitting back down.

"What?"

"I killed him. I pushed him off his switchblade and into the Wastelands. His glider failed."

"...Wow. I guess I could have worse for a brother." She gave him a wobbly smile.

"Starling, you can't have much worse than a murderer for a brother."

She shook her head. "Not what I meant. You're a great fighter, Aerrow. Beating the Dark Ace proves that. If you were in the same position I was, with my squad, you... you would have been able to save them."

"Thanks, I think."

She managed a laugh. "It _was_ a compliment, Aerrow. Come here." She waved him over, surprising him by crushing him into a hug. "Don't ever change," she whispered. Holding him out at arm's length, she smiled tentatively. "Go on, go protect your squad. Keep them safe.

"Little brother."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: Okay, as some people are probably wondering why I made Starling his sister: go watch the second last episode of season 2. When Aerrow breaks the other squads free from the crystal prison, you see them standing next to each other, and their eyes are the _exact _same colour. It just got me wondering. It might be the motive behind her helping them on those other missions, possibly. And the fact that she had seperated herself from Aerrow would mean she seperated herself from being Lightning Strike's descendant, and the Guardians wouldn't then take her into account. I dunno, I'm too lazy to figure it out properly. :P

...Well, that's pretty much it, dear readers! Sorry that so little of it was actually what I said it would be, but the plot bunnies really just went nuts, and I hope that you enjoyed the ride anyway! Stay tuned, and until next time, pixie out.

*intercom static*


	22. Epilogue: Dark Tidings

A/N: An epilogue, just because there's a little detail I'd like to address so that I won't be hunted down and shot by crazed fangirls...

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Deep in the Wastelands, amidst wickedly sharp spires of rock and deadly rivers of lava, lay the dented remains of a Switchblade Elite.

The Dark Ace trekked angrily towards the wreckage. He cursed the stupid voice in his head that had started this whole problem. _Maybe telling someone that it involved would help with the pain._ Now, the thought made him scoff. In fact, he wished the thought was actually something someone else had told him, so he could cleave them in half for their idiocy.

When he had fallen through the clouds, battle-glider unresponsive, he had fully expected to die on impact. What he hadn't expected was for that same glider to get caught on an outcropping of rock as he fell, stopping his downward plunge and essentially saving his life. It had taken him all of about ten seconds to unhook himself from the rock and climb on top of the outcrop, completely unharmed from his fall except for maybe one or two light grazes.

No man could have survived that plummet – but the Dark Ace wasn't just a man. He was up on a pedestal. Above the rest.

Better.

He gave the switchblade a few vicious kicks, and miraculously, it roared to life. The engine coughed a few times, emitting a thin stream of black smoke, but still kept going. For now, at least, it would be good enough to get him where he was going. He could get everything that was broken fixed properly later. Mounting the switchblade with a few odd bits of metal and wiring sticking into his legs, the Dark Ace began his long flight back to Cyclonia.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: Okay, hands up, who thought I'd actually killed off the Dark Ace? GOTCHA! Haha, he's one of my favourite characters, I'd never kill him off like that. *glares at Nerd Corps*


End file.
